The snow in Qingchuan turned to frost, and the ruins of the earthen house splattered with blood.
The mother's soul follows the sword and flows into the fire, and the father wears the sword and falls into the cold pond with hatred.
The three-foot shovel is the color of frozen earth, and half of the shirt is wrapped in a broken heart.
I went to Hengyue not to seek enlightenment, but to kill the immortal officials and sacrifice my mother.
